


the wind is low, the birds will sing that you are part of everything

by elsaclack



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Gen, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Steve is a dad in training, Tumblr Prompt, adopting every child he encounters, everyone needs a good father figure, including the ones with superpowers, that's the motto, the more father figures the better
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-09
Updated: 2017-11-09
Packaged: 2019-01-31 07:50:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12677559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elsaclack/pseuds/elsaclack
Summary: ANONYMOUS ASKED: a fic prompt - Steve gets introduced to El and internally he's like 'guess ive got 5 kids now' :3She looks very different than she did three days earlier. Gone is the slicked-back hair and heavy eye makeup, gone are the ratty jeans and ripped shirts and jackets. The girl that sits before him now doesn’t particularly look like she’s hiding superpowers. She looks like just that, agirl- radiating innocence and timidity beneath a veritable mop of lazy curls that hang down in her big wide brown eyes. Her clothes are big and baggy and definitely scream hand-me-down but he can tell by looking at her that she has no concept of why that might be a bad thing.It’s when she slides off the bed and steps toward him - after casting an uncertain glance at Mike - that it really hits him. She reaches up to push her hair out of her eyes and he finally sees them, the depth behind those irises, the strength radiating off of her that seems to originate somewhere down in her bones. What he thought was timidity is now a carefully-restrained surge of pure power. It very nearly floors him.“Hi,” her voice is soft and measured and her hand is steady as she reaches toward him.





	the wind is low, the birds will sing that you are part of everything

Steve finally properly meets Eleven three days after the fact, on a bright and sunny morning. It’s a busy day in Hawkins - people seem to be getting a head-start on holiday shopping early this year - but beneath all that surface-level hustle and bustle, The Party is busy with their own excitable rush.

(Inwardly, Steve winces every time he subconsciously refers to the group of traumatized humans he’s unwittingly become a part of as  _The Party_. He really,  _really_ needs to stop spending so much time with Dustin.)

If their fellow citizens notice the fact that Hopper, Joyce, Nancy, Jonathan, and Steve have been driving back and forth along the same path over and over again all day today, they don’t seem to care. Dustin doesn’t seem all that bothered by it, either; he just chatters away into his walky-talky radio… _thing_ in Steve’s passenger’s seat, pointing out various window fronts to his friends as they drive along ahead of them or behind them, oblivious to Steve’s occasional side-long glances. Every now and then Lucas or Mike will answer, usually in the form of an exasperated groan or else yelling at him to shut up, but Dustin is completely unperturbed.

It’s hard to admit, but Steve almost envies him.

At age 13, Steve was already obsessed with the social hierarchy in place at Hawkins Middle School. He knew Jessica Lang threw all the best parties when her parents were out of town and had already developed an uncanny talent for making the bottle land on her every time he spun it, thus quickly propelling him to the very top by the time they hit high school; all it took was earning his place on the basketball team for King Steve to be born. King Steve never showed that much excitement over any single thing. King Steve was cool at every possible moment, from the way he stood to the way he dressed to the way he styled his hair. King Steve was carefully and meticulously designed and was really a  _bitch_ to maintain.

He thinks with a faint smile that he really doesn’t miss that old stodgy monarch as he listens to Dustin fawn over some Star Wars toy on display in a passing window.

“Dustin.” he says sharply, his voice a strict warning that goes completely ignored. Dustin doesn’t even grunt in acknowledgement as he cranes over the back of his seat, pushed up on his knees so that his back is to the windshield, digging through the boxes and bags piled in Steve’s backseat. “Dude, sit  _down_.”

“Oh  _come on_ , Harrington, you can’t tell me you’re not at least a  _little_ curious about the chief’s old stuff,” Dustin leans further forward, his foot nearly hitting the gear shift, and Steve starts forward automatically. “You think there are any old murder files in here from when he worked in Indianapolis?”

“Seriously, Henderson, sit your ass down before I kick you outta my car.” Dustin lands harshly on his butt, huffing in annoyance and indignation alike, and Steve rolls his eyes. “You are such a  _gremlin_.”

Dustin flicks him off, which Steve mirrors back in kind. “You’re honestly telling me that you’re not curious  _at all_  about Hopper?”

“Well…yeah, I mean, sure I’m curious. Like, how did he find Eleven when the actual US Army couldn’t find her? And, like, what do they do to, like…pass the time? That cabin was so empty and, I dunno… _cold_ , I guess. Did he just leave her there all the time? Like, when he was at work, where did she go? What did she do?”

“Sounds like you’re more curious about Eleven than Hopper, Steve,” Dustin says.

“Can you blame me? I never got to meet her last year, I just heard about her from the government people and then from you guys and Nance - she disappears for almost a year and then throws a friggin’ demodog through the window and comes rollin’ in looking like Siouxsie Sioux got hit by a truck made outta hair gel -”

“Who is that?”

“What?”

“Who’s Siouxsie Sioux?”

“I - she’s - don’t worry about it,” he shakes his head, feeling absurdly old for the span of two seconds, before taking a deep breath and starting again. “I just - it still sounds like something outta one of your nerd movies or something. You found some chick in the woods with superpowers. That’s insane.”

“More insane than beating a demogorgon with a baseball bat?” Dustin asks knowingly.

Steve longs to argue, but when he opens his mouth the words stick in his throat. “It’s not just a normal baseball bat, it has  _nails_ ,” he mutters after a moment. “But alright, you have a point. This whole thing is crazy to me, though. I just have a hard time wrapping my head around it, is all.”

Dustin angles toward Steve in his seat. “Have you actually met her yet?”

Steve glances at him, brows drawn together in confusion. “What?”

“Eleven. Have you met her? Like,  _for real_  met her? Introduced yourself, shook her hand -”

“No,” Steve shakes his head and glances up in the rear view mirror, where he can see the reflection of Jonathan’s car tailing his own through town. “I mean, she came to my house after the whole gate-closing thing, but she was asleep on the way there and Hopper came by and picked her and Mike up before I could. Why?”

“She’s super cool, that’s why. I think you’ll really like her if you actually meet her.”

Steve smirks. “ _You_ think she’s super cool?”

“I  _know_ she’s super cool.  _Way_ cooler than you  _ever_ were,  _King Steve_.”

Steve jabs his fist across the seat, lightly hitting Dustin’s upper arm. “ _I’ll_ be the judge of that, thanks.”

Hopper’s truck is already parked in the long driveway to his lakeside house when Steve and Jonathan come rolling in, all the doors open and not a single soul in sight. The front door to the house is open, though, and as Steve throws the car in park he sees Hopper emerge onto the front porch with a hand raised to shield his eyes against the sunlight.

“This the last of it?” Hopper calls as Steve and Dustin slide out of Steve’s car.

“I think Nancy and Mrs. Byers are bringing in the last few boxes,” Steve says, glancing to Jonathan for confirmation.

“I think they were getting the last of the kitchen stuff,” Jonathan nods as he climbs out of his car, glancing between Hopper and Steve almost nervously. The sight kicks up an ancient kind of guilt in the pit of Steve’s gut - he can still hear the camera lens shattering on the asphalt - but he ignores it.

Jonathan’s got the upper hand now, anyways.

Dustin’s already digging into Steve’s back seat just as Will has started in on Jonathan’s, so as Hopper lights a cigarette and takes a long puff, Steve flings the driver’s side back door open and grabs the nearest box blindly. The dirt-and-gravel drive crunches beneath his feet as he trudges toward the front porch behind Dustin, holding his breath as they pass by Hopper.

He’s never really been one for the smell of those awful little things.

There are voices - children’s voices - ringing through the house when he gets inside. He recognizes the louder and more boisterous of the two as Mike’s, but it’s the quieter one, the softer and more feminine one, that gives him pause.

Dustin notices. “D’you wanna meet her?” he asks quietly as he hefts his box onto the couch pushed up beneath the window.

His hesitation must somehow show on his face, for the next thing he knows the box he’s holding in his hands is yanked from his grip and haphazardly tossed onto the cushion next to Dustin’s. Dustin grabs him by the wrist and practically marches him through the house, dimly lit only by the light pouring in through the windows. The voices grow louder as Steve and Dustin draw closer to an open bedroom door halfway down the hallway, but when they round the corner the voices cut off immediately.

They’re sitting cross-legged on a bed shoved in the corner of an otherwise empty room, looking as if they got halfway through making up that bed with sheets and blankets before they got distracted. There are just a few scant inches between their knees, and though Dustin marches inside with all the confidence of a person in their element, Steve freezes in the doorway. 

Dustin draws up to Eleven’s side and turns, looking to Steve expectantly. “Steve,” he says with a theatrical wave of his hand, “this…is El.”

She looks very different than she did three days earlier. Gone is the slicked-back hair and heavy eye makeup, gone are the ratty jeans and ripped shirts and jackets. The girl that sits before him now doesn’t particularly look like she’s hiding superpowers. She looks like just that, a  _girl_ \- radiating innocence and timidity beneath a veritable mop of lazy curls that hang down in her big wide brown eyes. Her clothes are big and baggy and definitely scream hand-me-down (judging by the warn flannel rolled halfway up her forearms, he’d feel confident betting all his money that they’re hand-me-downs from Hopper) but he can tell by looking at her that she has no concept of why that might be a bad thing. 

It’s when she slides off the bed and steps toward him - after casting an uncertain glance at Mike - that it really hits him. She reaches up to push her hair out of her eyes and he finally sees them, the depth behind those irises, the strength radiating off of her that seems to originate somewhere down in her bones. What he thought was timidity is now a carefully-restrained surge of pure power. It very nearly floors him.

“Hi,” her voice is soft and measured and her hand is steady as she reaches toward him.

He steps forward automatically - not entirely convinced that he’s doing so on his own will - and swallows thickly when he feels just how firm her grip is on his hand. “Hey,” he rasps, and over her shoulder he sees Dustin and Mike exchange a smirk. “You’re - you’re -”

“Eleven,” she finishes for him, mild confusion shining in her eyes. “You’re Steve?”

He nods.

“I woke up in your house.” She glances back at Mike, who nods, and then turns back to Steve. “It’s warm there.”

He chuckles almost nervously. She’s still watching him curiously, almost piercingly, and he has absolutely no idea what to do with his hands. He’s never felt so closely studied before. “Yeah, uh - I don’t, I mean. I don’t like the cold a whole lot.”

A small, soft smile dimples one of her cheeks. “Me either,” she says with a little shake of her head. “The white stuff is like the Upside Down.”

Steve furrows his brow and looks to Dustin and Mike over her head. “Are you talking about snow, El?” Dustin asks, looking equally confused.

Eleven turns toward him. “Snow?” she repeats.

Mike bounces off the bed and moves closer to her as Dustin does the same. “The white stuff,” Mike says, “did it fall from the sky?”

Eleven nods.

“Was it really cold?”

Again, she nods.

Mike and Dustin exchange a grin. “That’s snow,” Mike explains. “It’s like rain, except when it’s cold enough outside, the rain freezes and it turns into snow. It’s really fun to play in, you can make snowmen or snow-angels and have snowball fights -”

“Speaking of, I still want a rematch from two years ago,” Dustin interrupts, elbowing Mike in the side.

“Shut  _up_ , Dustin,” Mike hisses. “Don’t worry, El, it really is a lot of fun. We’ll show you when it snows here.”

“I always liked sledding,” Steve hears himself say. They all turn to him - Eleven looking unconvinced, Dustin and Mike looking hopeful. “There’s this big hill right outside of Hawkins I used to go to with my friends - it’s super steep and there are hardly any trees. It’s perfect for sledding.”

“Where?” Mike asks excitedly.

“It’s actually just past Merrill’s Farm -”

“That’s a long way to bike,” Dustin murmurs forlornly.

It’s manipulation at its most obvious, but Steve feels himself falling for it hook, line, and sinker. “Well, you wouldn’t have to bike,” he says, exasperated. “I’d give you guys a ride.”

“We have to take the sled I got last year for Christmas,” Dustin says loudly, nearly cutting off the end of Steve’s sentence. “It’s super fast and you can actually steer it, unlike the one we had two years ago.”

“You can be my sledding partner,” Mike says to Eleven through a broad grin, squeezing her hand that he automatically reached for when Steve was mid-sentence. “I’ll show you how to do all the tricks, I promise you’ll have fun.”

Eleven seems to visibly relax, all of her focus on Mike’s face. “Okay,” she says quietly, and Mike beams.

Dustin seems to be trying to say something else, but before he can so much as form a word, they’re interrupted by heavy footsteps coming down the hall. Steve darts into the room and turns toward the door just in time to see Hopper coming around the corner, confusion and irritation on his face. “Did you guys just decide that we were done unloading?” he asks, an authority in his gaze that would have subdued even King Steve. “C’mon, Joyce just got here and we’re almost outta daylight.”

The kids file out ahead of both Steve and Hopper, and while Mike and Dustin keep their heads ducked and eyes on the ground, Eleven meets Hopper’s gaze with a calm smile on her face. Hopper seems to soften a little at the sight - he doesn’t downright smile, but he does reach out to ruffle her hair as she passes. It seems she has just about everyone wrapped around her finger in a way that King Steve could have only dreamed of. Steve lingers in the doorway next to Hopper, watching the kids make their way down the hallway; Mike matches El’s calm, keeping pace beside her easily, while Dustin seems to bounce off the walls ahead of them, already chattering excitedly.

“She’s really got them under her spell, doesn’t she?” Steve asks, glancing at Hopper.

He snorts and nods, before reaching up to tiredly rub at his forehead. “They’re not the only ones,” he mutters, before trudging off after them.

Steve hesitates for another moment, glancing back into the bedroom - her bedroom. There are a couple of boxes stacked up by the closet he hadn’t noticed before, and on top of the highest box an old, worn stuffed animal sits demurely, as silent and unassuming as the girl to which it belongs. It looks as if it might have been a lion at one point, but time and rough treatment have morphed it into something almost unrecognizable; the longer Steve stares, the larger his sense of melancholy seems to grow.

The sound of laughter at the front of the house draws his attention away. “No,” he mutters as he starts down the hallway, “they’re really not.”

**Author's Note:**

> hmu on [tumblr](https://el-mike-jane.tumblr.com/ask) if you have prompts you'd like me to tackle!!


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